


danse macabre

by deaconsmay



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:00:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27371560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deaconsmay/pseuds/deaconsmay
Summary: when famed sculptor john deacon makes a marionette replica of a young man to cope with the love he harbours for him, his twisted wish comes true and the doll comes to life. after the strange occurence, john finds love can be more gruesome and sickening than he'd expected.
Relationships: John Deacon/Brian May
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	1. it's late

a veil of heavy mist fell upon brighton's cold streets, reminiscent of a silent, mysterious baron spreading his fog-woven cloak atop his puny realm. the trees, adorned in the festive oranges and browns of aging summer creeping slowly into winter, shook their leaves and shuddered in agony as a bitter wind ruffled though them. the moon shone weakly through the thin layer of clouds afloat in the onyx-coloured sky, casting a faint indigo glow onto the cobblestone streets, and painting nearly transluscent, grisly shadows onto the peaceful row of houses lined up alongst the streets. 

one house in particular stood out from the rest. it was a great, white house, with greek pillars on either side of the front door, brightly illuminated inside and out. horse cabs and people mingled outside the gates, and a steady stream of guests trickled in and out of the mansion, sometimes slowing down but never ceasing to flow. the faint orchestrals of a waltz could be heard wafting throughout the air, but the joyous chatter of guests and clinking of champagne glasses soon drowned out the pleasant sound. 

while most of the guests were accumulated in the upstairs ballroom of the house, either stood conversing on the sidelines or twirling gracefully with their partners on the dance floor, a large number of them sat at the other end of the room at long, white-satin shrouded tables, dining with each other in perfect etiquette. a fair-haired, young gentleman seated at the end of the far-left table proposed a toast to the irreplaceable lady whitaker, who sat tensely at the head of the table, and without whom the gathering wouldn't have been of existence. 

lady jane whitaker, or, as some called her, 'our lady', had gained quite the reputation from her dinner-parties over the past decade. whilst most citisens — specially the youngest generation with their 'modern mindset' — considered dinner-parties to be dull and somewhat disingenuous, lady whitaker's had always been a prime example for an exception. (so much so, that harrod's books and antiques had even so much as carried a single-copy thesaurus with her gatherings as the definition of aforementioned word. it'd been a dearly-kept copy, until some pious american visitor had bought it just for the record, to add to his ever-growing collection of rare books.)

the lady herself was a stout, elderly matron with a grim expression and the coolness of steel. after her husband, general whitaker, had passed away in a riding accident involving a somewhat agressive deer at an early age, she'd thrown herself into lavish wine parties and dinners, and the custom of it had stuck with her. anyone and everyone with a sensible nature would attend her get-togethers, and if the odd person turned her invitation down, they'd be under minimum three hexes by the end of the week. 

she accepted the proposal for toast with gratitude, daintily lifting her champagne glass to carefully clink it with her neighbours', and, upon seeing many gazes cast upon her, cleared her throat and began to speak. 

"thank you all", she started, and everybody fell silent, "for gathering here tonight. i'm immensely gratituous for this pleasant company, and i wish for everybody to enjoy themselves as much as they can. let us all drink to each other's health, happiness and succes, and only wish to pursue noble and positive actions and desires in our futures." she spoke, and her words were met with murmurs of approval and a thunderous applause. 

the orchestra resumed their swish waltz, and the agile dancers started up again, giving a wondrous sight for the onlookers — a whirling concotion of colourful silk dresses, flashes of glitter-gold and black suede, mixing together into a cacophony of colours underneath the bright chandelier's light. the ones seated at the dinner table continued conversing and feasting, the clashing of silverware and joyous chatter filling the room and echoing off the ornate chamber walls. 

suddenly, though unnoticed by most, the ballroom door opened with a flourish to reveal a young valet and a gentleman standing on the threshold. a lone gust of wind which had crept in alongst them moaned through the room, causing a flutter to ripple through the dainty curtains and tablecloths as the door shut once more, now leaving just the young gentleman in the doorway. adjusting his jacquard-silk waistcoat, he ventured further into the room, his green-grey eyes searching the crowd for a familiar face amongst the sea of others. 

soon enough, a dark-haired man beckoned to him from a far corner of the ballroom, and his eyes seemed to light up for a mere moment before a dour expression washed over his features once again. he hurriedly made his way over to him, weaving (rather clumsily, one must admit) through the crowd of dancers, and wordlessly slipping past the dining table. approaching the raven-haired, he pointed an accusatory finger towards him. 

"where is he? i must see him at once." he demanded, but his partner only laughed. 

"my dear friend, john", he started, "why such the rush? one would think you're a patient man, seeing your finely chiselled craftsmanship. besides, i haven't a clue what you're on about, my dear."

"frederick. you know exactly what i'm on about." john sighed, agitated, and frederick softened a bit at his friend's ravaged voice. 

pointing a bejewelled hand in the general direction of the dance floor, he took a puff from his cigar before speaking again. 

"somewhere in there, dancing." he announced, and john sighed in exasperation. 

he stood against the wall next to frederick, furrowing his brows as he scoured the dance floor with his frantic gaze. the mass of colourful fabrics and various faces blending in front of him brought tears to john's eyes, so, instead, he cast his gaze down onto his leather shoes. 

"tell me about him." he whispered suddenly, and his companion hummed in reply. 

"he's rich", frederick nodded slowly, "oh very rich. nobody knows how, though. he has no family, but money aplenty," here, he lowered his voice, "wouldn't be surprised if he robbed the bank of england."

john scoffed in disbelief, "he wouldn't. but please, go on, tell me more about him." he prompted. 

frederick took another drag from his cigar, the ash of it sprinkling onto his silken trousers. a distant cheer sounded from the dinner table, filling in the silence between the two men until one spoke again. 

"dear, i wouldn't know. i'm not psychic." fred chuckled, wordlessly handing his still sizzling cigar to a valet who stood nearby, and dusting off his trousers. 

"please, i beg of you, just any little detail shall be fine!" john implored, and had he not been in a room full of people, he wouldn't have hesitated dropping on his knees with interlaced hands. he was that desperate to know more. 

frederick scoffed, a tinge of mercilessness in his tone (for he found his friend's desperation rather comical) yet he still wracked his brains for any little detail he could provide to help douse his companion's thirst for knowledge on the man — being a member of many gentlemen's clubs had helped him greatly to be of excellence in providing information about others, but it still hadn't been nearly enough to crack the mystery of the strange man in question. 

"he's- oh! there he is! there!" fred exclaimed all of a sudden, flailing his arms in the direction of a pair waltzing on the polished dance floor. john took a firm hold on his hand, willing him to be still and a bit less exuberant as he stood, transfixed by what he saw upon following his friend's gaze. 

it'd only been a week since he'd first seen him, yet it felt like the a primal encounter all over again — he could feel the air being withdrawn from his lungs and his cheeks turn pink and warm as he trailed his eyes along the boy's sharp features, finely chiselled lips, lean figure and his head full of luscious chestnut curls. his eyes blown wide and his rosebud lips parted, john stared in awe at the painterly figure moving refinedly across the floor, and he found that his breath wouldn't budge past his throat

"go on, talk to him." frederick encouraged john, smugly nudging him the slightest bit. 

coming back to reality, john's cheeks flushed a crimson red, "no, i-i can't. i'm much too scared." he confessed, and fred just elevated his eyebrows in silent acknowledgement, a judgemental expression adorning his dark, exotic features. 

"didn't you only come here to see him?" he queried, and john coughed shamefully, shuffling his feet. 

"i- yes, i did, but i won't talk, no. he just- well he intrigues me, and when i first saw him at the cathedral last week, i knew i must see him again. and at last i've found him. . ." he trailed off in a whisper, and, passing his tongue over his dry lips, leaned forward to intently study him from afar. 

a servant walked by them quietly, offering the gentlemen dainty crystal glasses of white wine from an intricate silver platter, of which john absentmindedly took one, but after sloshing it around in his glass for a while, he eventually passed it on to fred. the orchestra continued on with their music, the soft sounds of the violins filling john's ears as he turned to fred once more. 

"who might the lady be?" he asked quietly, gesturing at the curly-haired's dance partner. 

frederick leaned forward in anticipation, his eyes glimmering underneath the chandelier light like chips of black glass in a sea of ivory. 

"his bride." he whispered.

john felt as if though the world had ceased to flow around him. his head felt dizzy, his lungs tightening as he gasped for air and clutched onto fred's arm to steady himself. his previous ecstasy upon seeing the man crumbled to nothingness, and he felt his momentary joy diminish within seconds — a sinking sorrow as deep and passionate as his joy had been was quick to replace his glee.

blinking slowly to clear his his bleary vision, he cleared his throat before speaking, "his whom?"

"his bride. they're due to wed this month." came the answer, but it barely got through the thick fog that had accumulated in john's light head.

there was only one reoccuring thought racing through his frantic mind, taking over his willpower and blanking his senses.

he was doomed.


	2. jealousy

the young evening stealthily flourished into night, an all-consuming cluster of clouds darkening the sky. the moon shyly crept up onto the star-freckled canvas, placing a silvery finger of light atop the villa in which the dinner-party was ongoing - a light that merely slipped in through the windows before it was united with the chandelier's much stronger light. 

john found himself looking towards the dance floor more often than he would've liked to admit, trying to steal forbidden and lustful glances at the curly-haired man while he sullenly engaged in boring discussions with other dinner-guests. 

the more he glanced at him, the more his heart shattered to finer and finer splinters inside his chest, but he simply couldn't get enough - it was as if though his beauty were a void, harmful and dark yet inviting, a delicious, sweet poison that, rather than quenching john's thirst, only seemed to fuel it. 

the searing agony and passion john felt was nearly physically hurtful, his body now nothing more than an empty, soulless shell, waiting for the decay of sorrow and heartbreak to diminish. he shakily poured himself yet another glass of champagne, and his glass collided ill-manneredly with his teeth as he downed the alchohol as fast as he could, in hopes of forgetting his sorrow. by then, he couldn't quite recall the reason for his sadness - he just felt it, coursing through his body, along with the tingling of the many glasses of drinks he'd had. 

his tired eyes fixated blearily onto his beverage, watching the chandelier light shimmer atop the bubbly liquid as if though he were in a trance. his head began to swim with delirium, his mind filling with various envisaged scenarios merging together with reality, and he seemed not to know where to draw the line between them. a halcyon filter fell over his vision, making everything appear slow and euphoric, and his hearing became muffled, a sharp, ringing sound replacing the chatter of guests and clashing of silverware. 

a timid tap on his shoulder made him glance up from his sparkling drink, straight into a pair of chocolate-coloured eyes.

"hello, fred." john smiled tiredly at the man looming above him, fluttering his eyes to clear his vision, and fred furrowed his brows. 

"are you alright?" he queried, gently stroking john's silken coat sleeve. 

"y-yes, i'm just feeling a bit poorly. i think it'd be best if i took a cab home." john slurred, rubbing his temple for emphasis. his words blended together ungracefully, his tongue and mind too hazy to keep up with the words pouring out of his mouth. 

frederick pressed his cherry lips together into a grim line. 

"i believe you've had quite a lot to drink, my friend."

the black-haired man slung an arm atop john's frail shoulders, encasing him into a supporting embrace, and commandeered him towards the doorway. john shrunk under the contact, craving nothing more than to have someone else be in freddie's place. the thought alone made his throat choke up, tears forming in his sea-green eyes, and he tensed his shoulders as to not let his tears past his control - a sudden flood of memories came back to him, breaking the dams the alchohol had built in his brain, and he remembered the tall, handsome boy he'd come to the party for, and squirmed under frederick's touch. 

despite john's sudden protest, the duo stepped out of the house, the cool night air hitting john's heated cheeks, a wind whipping at his chestnut hair. the warmth radiating from inside caused part of john to crave to break out of fred's grasp and find the tall boy he'd come to see, but even in his intoxicated state, he knew better than to make a fool of himself. 

instead, his tears welled in his eyes, giving them a sickly, fervent shimmer, and gathering in dewy droplets on his silky eyelashes. he blinked several times to will them away, thankful frederick had by then hailed him a cab and was hurriedly pushing him inside. 

john stumbled up the steps, throwing himself into the plush seat and resting his pinkish-hot cheek against the cool glass of the carriage. fred waved the carriage off, and the horses slowly started trotting along the dirt path, away from the house. it was a bittersweet departure, tearing john's soul in half as he contemplated staying rather than going home, but a sudden wave of exhaustion decided for him. 

as the vechicle rattled away into the night, the soft whirring of the cab wheels lulled john into a strange half-sleep, his eyelids fluttering shut at random intervals. the world faded fuzzily in and out of focus, making the half-hour journey on the cobblestoned brighton streets seem like a blink of an eye. 

upon arriving home, john gently unbuttoned his vest and removed his silken cravat, the cool night air coming from his open window tentatively kissing at his exposed neck, causing him to shudder. as his nimble fingers worked at his shirt buttons, he felt the familiar sensation of tears burning his eyes, and, with being in the safety of his home, he didn't protest - he let all of his despair flow freely from his eyes, his tears leaving burning rivers of sadness in their wake. 

"why?" he whispered to himself, wails of distress clawing at his throat as he wept, tearing sobs from his exhausted body. 

taking his head in his hands, he collapsed in a heap of emotion by the cabinet, just few steps short of his work bench, and stared glassily at the stars littering the sky outside of his workshop window. 

"and it just had to be me. . ." he whispered, licking his lips. he took a breath, expecting another sob to follow, but instead, he laughed. 

the sound startled him. contrary to the many other times he'd laughed before, it wasn't filled with joy or glee, rather a cold, bitter desperation, lacking of sympathy and mocking himself. his shoulders shook with laughter and tears, and he held his head in disbelief as he realised how foolish he must be - pathetically following a gorgeous man he'd seen only once, and completely letting the unrequition of his love crush him and destroy his soul. thoroughly scolding himself for his half-wittedness, he hauled himself up off the floor and went (quite tipsily, one must add) up the stairs. 

after pouring himself a glass of spiced whiskey he'd acquired from the ornate cabinet in the corner of his drawing room, he sat cross-legged on the window-sill, staring seaward. a much more pleasant breeze caressed his face, the fresh smell of seawater calming his nerves as the distant shore-light occasionally shone through the thick fog around the bay. unlike on clearer nights, it didn't glare discorteously into his eyes, but rather cast a friendly glow onto his small house and workshop, momentarily lending a magical air to the place. 

john sighed wearily. he knew better than to try and sleep, knowing it'd result in a comeback of his grief he'd just managed to chide, and he daren't slip out from under the whimsical moonlight - so he stayed, seated, thinking. 

and by the crack of dawn, a new idea was born alongside the sun.


End file.
